Lies My Watchers Told Me
by Kathryn Adkins
Summary: This is not Spuffy. Giles and Spike discover that Merrick had a daughter who would have been Slayer. Instead, he kept the prophesy from her. Now, they need her to help them win the 7th season apocalypse. And they need Buffy to relinquish control and fa
1. Chapter 1

Fifteen Slayers in Training and counting. Food was scarce and usually of the junk variety. Training and schooling each of them on a daily basis took a little more care than she was used to. Then, there was some degree of mothering them involved. She mentored them as best she could. And she did it all while raising her own sixteen year-old sister. She tried to remember just when she had signed on the dotted line for all of this. And now, the biggest shock of all. Another Slayer. Not a Potential. And not Faith.

"How long have you known about her?" she asked Giles, playing with her tea bag as it steeped in a plain, white styrofoam cup. Ceramic mugs were a luxury she could no longer afford.

Her Watcher removed his glasses and began nervously polishing them on his sleeve. That pretty much told her that the answer he was going to give her would not be one that she wanted to hear.

"Just tell me, Giles," she said, wearily.

"She's been here for about six months now," he told his ward.

She seemed to be thinking about his response. Another Slayer. Another Chosen One. And she'd been in Sunnydale for six months. And this was the first she was hearing about it.

"With you?" she asked.

He looked at her questioningly.

"She's been staying with you?" she asked again.

"No," he said, his head shaking. "Not with me."

She was quiet again. Chosen One. That was pretty funny. There was a living room full of potentially Chosen Ones just a few feet away from her. There was another Chosen One in an LA prison waiting to be sprung so that she, too, could fight the good fight. And now there was a new Chosen One right there in good old Sunny D. So much for being special.

"How did this happen?" she wanted to know. "When? When I was dead? When Faith was in a coma? When Kendra died?"

Giles took a deep breath. This wasn't like Faith or Kendra.

"Before."

Before? Before what?

"Before you, Buffy. She's the oldest Slayer to date."

This couldn't be true.

"Did Merrick know?" she asked weakly.

"He did," Giles confirmed.

"Then why wasn't she called?"

"She was," he told her.

"She was kept from the Council."

"How is that even possible? Why didn't Merrick force her? He forced _me_," she said haughtily.

"Because Victoria is his daughter," Giles told her.

Buffy stared at him, not believing what she was hearing. She had been forced to give up her childhood, her dreams and hopes because Merrick didn't want his own daughter to suffer the burden? An angry tear escaped from her eye.

"It isn't as simple as you think, Buffy," Giles assured her.

"You have no idea what I think," she ground out.

"Perhaps I don't," he nodded. "But I do know that had I a daughter of my own, I might have done the same thing. Merrick... he was never married to Victoria's mother. Watchers aren't supposed to be married. And we aren't supposed to have children. We are required to focus on our duties. No distractions. Merrick kept his child a very careful secret."

"And when he found out she was a Slayer?" Buffy wanted to know.

"He didn't tell her. Didn't tell the Council, either," he concluded. "Esme told me that he called in a favor to the coven and they hid her from the Council with a glamour. But Victoria never followed the path Merrick would have liked for her. Her Slayer strength and her special abilities may have not been something she could define, but she turned them to her advantage."

"And how is that? Is she some sort of demon-killing vigilante?" Buffy groused.

"Not quite," Giles said with an amused smirk. "Victoria is a Marine Corps sniper."

Marine Corps? That was so not what Buffy was expecting.

"So, she doesn't even know that her purpose on this earth is to rid it of evil?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, she knows that all too well, my dear," Giles told her. "She's been ridding it of human evil for quite some time now."

"But she has no clue about demons," Buffy finished for him.

"Well, see, the thing about demons is that they can sniff out a Slayer whether she knows she's one or not. She's had plenty of experience with demons of all kinds," Giles explained. "She's enlightened us to some... interesting facts."

"Interesting how? What facts?" she asked.

"Foriegn militaries have no problem integrating demons into their troops," Giles informed her. "Many of the prisoners of war have been given to vampire militants as payment for their services amongst the troops."

"Given as payment? As food, you mean," Buffy guessed.

Giles nodded his answer.

Buffy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Demons in the military? While highly disturbing, it was also a brilliant idea used by the enemy.

"Just how old is she?" Buffy was suddenly curious to know.

"She's 25. And I'll warn you, Buffy, she's not very happy about being here," he responded. "She's listed as MIA right now and is furious with us for taking her from her post. It's taken all this time to convince her that she is very much needed for this apocalyptic battle. She fought us hard every step of the way, but I think we've finally convinced her that we can't do it without her."

We. Us. Buffy had the feeling that Giles wasn't referring to himself and the other council members. They were all dead, she remembered.

"Who is we, Giles?" she asked, getting the feeling she really didn't want to know.

The glasses came off again and Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a shaky sigh and looked up to meet her dark eyes.

"Spike."

Spike.

She stared at Giles, trying to reign in her emotions. Spike who had tried to kill her. Spike who had tried to love her. Spike who had tried to rape her. She hadn't seen him since that night he attacked her in her bathroom. She knew that she was just as much at fault as he was, but she refused to believe that Giles would allow Spike to go anywhere near another Slayer after that incident.

"Spike," she repeated coldly.

Giles nodded.

"You brought him back," she continued.

"Not exactly. But we need him for the final battle, Buffy. It's written in the prophesy," he explained.

"What prophesy?"

"The one you thought was for you and Angel," he replied. "The one that says that the two who are chosen, forces of dark and light, will close the mouth of Hell."

"Yeah, I got that memo," she snarked. "Now fill me in on how that soulless piece of shit is the one who is supposed to help me."

This was getting more difficult by the minute. Giles set his glasses on the table in front of him and clasped his hands together tightly.

"You're not the Chosen One, Buffy," he said softly.

What? Of course she was the Chosen One. What the Hell had she been doing all these years?

"It isn't you, my dear," he told her again. "Victoria is the Slayer, Buffy. She's the one. As strong as you are, your strength can't match hers. She is the light. And Spike is the dark."

"But he--"

"He went to Africa and won his soul, Buffy," Giles continued to her horror.

"No," she whispered, wide-eyed.

"He called me for help when he returned," Giles told her. "It was... a shock, I'll admit. And I wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of helping him after all he had done, but it presented itself as an excellent educational opportunity."

Buffy waited for him to continue. It seemed that the soul was driving him slowly insane. He had nightmares reliving what he'd done since Drusilla turned him.

"But what made me ultimately decide to help him was the very lucid dreams about Victoria. He kept a journal of them. He was very clear on where she was, what she looked like, things she said, and who she was," Giles told her.

"No," she said, more forcefully as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, dear. But this isn't to be your battle. It's hers."


	2. Chapter 2

Tori pulled herself up by one arm, the other tucked behind her back. She stared straight ahead, not bothering to acknowledge the bleached blonde head in front of her. Her legs were curled under her as she released and pulled up on the bar again. The burn in her arm only drove her on.

"Are you listening to me, Pet?" Spike called to her again.

She shot him a dirty look and then returned her concentration to the hundredth chin-up she was getting ready to perform. He talked too much. Always yammering away when all she wanted was quiet contemplation. And always with the 'love' and the 'pet.' She'd knocked him flat on his ass the first time he'd tried out one of his customary endearments on her. But it hadn't stopped him.

She dropped down from the bar and stretched out her sore arms. He was in front of her in a flash, his cool hands taking over for her, massaging her strained biceps.

"Where were you?" he asked quietly.

"In the kill," she said truthfuly, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

He liked that about her. She was forthright. Didn't lie to him. Didn't run. And she wasn't the least bit afraid of what he was. He tipped her chin up with a gentle finger.

"It's okay, Love," he told her. "That's the kind of focus you need. The First won't be kind. It won't be gentle. And it won't care who or what you've killed. It will only have one thing in mind and that's you dead. Kill or be killed. We know all about that, don't we, Love?"

She nodded, her expression steely and tight as she remembered their first meeting.

"Jamison-Smythe, Victoria Leigh... Sergeant-Major... 42-99521."

The slight girl dressed in fatigues had her eyes fixed on some indeterminable spot on the wall. She had been nearly impossible to trap and had done more than a fair amount of damage to both the Watcher and the vampire before they sedated her.

"I'm getting too old for this," Giles sighed, taking a seat at the edge of one of the double beds in the tiny motel room.

"Not getting much younger myself," Spike quipped.

The only information she would give them was the standard name, rank and serial number.

"Miss Jamison-Smythe," Giles tried again. "Please, try to work with me, here. I knew your father, Merrick. He was with the Council of Watchers. Miss -- Victoria, dear, you are one of the chosen. You are a Slayer."

She shot him a look that sent icicles down his spine.

"Sergeant-Major Smythe," she asserted. "And my father worked for an undercover government op."

"Love," Spike began, trying the gentle approach. "Your father was a Watcher."

She glared at the vampire kneeling in front of her and swiftly kicked out a strong leg, knocking him on his back.

"Not your _love_, asshole. Sergeant-Major Smythe," she spat at him.

"Bloody hell!" he hollered, scrambling to his feet and as far away from her as he could. "Rupert, show her the journals."

It was the only way. Maybe if she saw the words written in her father's own hand, she'd believe them. Giles rummaged through his ruck sack and produced three hard-bound journals. He cautiously approached the volatile girl.

"These belonged to your father, Merrick Jamison-Smythe," he told her, watching her for any sudden moves.

She looked at the journals in his hands and then back to his face.

"I suggest you sedate me again if you intend to keep me here," she warned him. "Because once this shit wears off, I can break through these cuffs just as easliy as if they were made of foil."

Giles didn't doubt her one bit.

"We don't want to sedate you, Miss... Sergeant-Major Smythe. We want you to understand that it is your sacred duty to heed your calling," Giles explained.

"It is my sacred duty to protect and serve my country from foreign scum who kill Americans in the name of a God who will shun them on sight," she countered. "You stole me from my calling."


	3. Chapter 3

"When do I meet her?" Buffy asked, watching Giles search the shelves of the Magic Box for another text.

"Spike is in the training room with her right now," Giles replied, continuing to scan the shelves. "He will bring her in when they are done."

Buffy's spine tightened at the fact that they were just one room away from the vampire and the new chosen one. Giles saw her stiffen and ceased his search. Turning to her, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Buffy, believe me when I tell you he's changed," Giles said softly. "The soul has done wonders for him. He's been dealing with the consequences of a hundred plus years of... well, you know what he's done. It's been difficult for him. But he wouldn't be here of I couldn't trust him."

Buffy's eyes grew wide at the words Giles spoke. Trust. Spike. Two words she'd never thought her Watcher would utter in conjunction with one another.

"He contacted you in England?" she asked quietly, not wanting Spike to hear their conversation.

"That, he did," Giles nodded.

"How can you be sure?" she asked, regarding the soul.

"I took him to the coven," he told her. "Esme saw it."

The Slayer nodded and slumped into a seat at the round table.

Spike was just finishing up a smoke at the side door to the training room when Tori came out of the bathroom, her seabag slung over her shoulder. He could smell the sweetness of her soap clinging to her warm skin. Hershoulder-length honey-brown hair was partially covered by a weathered khaki bucket hat.

She'd slipped on a pair of faded jeans held up by a thick, black leather belt, topped bya white wife-beaterand a brown-side-out camouflage jacket. Her battered combat boots peeked out from the slightly frayed bottoms of her jeans. The only jewelry she wore was a Swiss Army watch and her dog tags weretucked inside her shirt. He wondered if her face had ever seen a stitch of makeup and then decided that she didn't need it. Her dark brown eyes glittered dangerously beneath naturally dark, lush lashes. Her cheeks and lips were naturally pink.

He crushed out the spent cigarette under his heel and closed the door. She stood in the center of the training room waiting for him. He was never far from her side. At first, it had been incredibly annoying. After six months of his steadfastness, it had become customary and somewhat comforting. She couldn't remember a moment without him there and didn't want to think of a moment when he might not be there anymore.

"You ready, Love?" he asked taking her hand in his. "Not going to revert to name, rank and serial number, are you?"

She gave him a small, rare smile.

"Don't get salty with me, William. I can still cold cock you," she told him, eyes locked on the door to the shop.

He held the door open for her, allowing her to enter first. She eyed the blonde sitting at the round table and quickly sized her up. They were about the same size in height, but Tori figured she had at least ten pounds in muscle on the thinner girl.

Buffy looked up to meet Tori's hard stare. She wasn't what she had been expecting. She was petite, but hard. There was nothing soft about the girl at all. Her dark eyes cut through the room and practically fleyed Buffy. Spike stood directly behind her, his hand clutching hers.

Buffy's eyes darted up to meet his. She wasn't sure what she was expecting to see, but she immediately looked away somewhat disappointed. He had changed. She could tell in that one glance. And any affection he'd once held for her was gone. He gave her a cursory nod before pushing Tori toward the table.

"Rupe," the girl greeted the Watcher.

"Victoria," he smiled. "Buffy Summers, please meet Victoria Jamison-Smythe."

Tori offered her hand to the seated girl. Buffy took it briefly, not bothering to rise.

"Why don't you have a seat, Love," Spike suggested, holding out a chair for her.

She sat down and he took the seat beside her. Giles took the seat between them and Buffy. The tension was swarming around them as Tori continued to watch the other Slayer, waiting for her to finally look away. Buffy turned to Giles, a nervous expression on her face.

"I suppose this is rather... uncomfortable," he said, looking to each of them.

"So, I hear you knew my father," Tori said, still watching the Slayer nervously picking at her nails.

"I did," Buffy smiled weakly.

"And you're the reason he died," Tori continued, not caring how uncomfortable she was making the girl.

Buffy's face darkened. She remembered the battle with Lothos and Merrick's sudden demise.

"And you're the reason I had to be a Slayer," she threw back at Merrick's progeny.

Tori glared at her before nodding.

"Fair enough," she ceded. "Let me makesomething clear to you; I would have gladly stepped up to the plate had I known my calling. My father chose to keep that little piece of information from me. Sorry it's a little late, but I guess this is where you belay. I'm here. And if I go back now, I'm in CC. And I don't fancy myself a brig rat after a seven year run as top-billing sniper."

Buffy had no idea what she was talking about.

"They'll throw her in jail, Buffy," Spike interpreted. "Rupert and I had to take her by force. Right now, she's listed MIA. Missing in Action. She goes back, she'll have a lot of explaining to do and I don't think 'a vampire kidnapped me so that I could save the world from evil' is going to cut it in the Corps. They'll think she's a nutter."

Buffy sighed, sensing that Tori wasn't going to back off any time soon.

"Fine," she shrugged. "Now what?"

"Victoria will take over training the SITs," Giles told her. "Her military training will be beneficial to them."

"Really? And what about her lack of... of... slayage training?" Buffy childishly retorted. "We're slaying demons here, not killing humans."

"Same difference," Tori shot at her. "Just a little less clean-up when it comes to the demon variety. And I'm not exactly a stranger to the demon world, Summers."

"So, where does that leave me?" Buffy said, angrily.

"Be a good girl and maybe I'll let you be my house mouse," Tori told her indifferently.

"Your... your what? Who?"

"My house mouse. You can assist," Tori continued, rubbing a nonexistent spot on the sleeve of Spike's duster.

Buffy looked at where Tori's fingers were rubbing the smooth leather. The Marine and the vampire had an ease around each other that Buffy had never had with Spike. It made her seethe even more.

"I don't assist," she ground out. "I lead."

"Past tense, Peaches," Tori informed her, unaware that she was using Spike's derogatory nick-name for Buffy's ex. "You _led_. You may have been top brass before, but there's only room for one general in this war and you're looking at her, kid."

Tori stood up, kicking her seat back and started toward the basement door, not bothering to look back. She could feel Spike not too far behind her. He paused before following her down the stairs.

"I trust you'll take care of this situation, Rupert, before it gets out of hand," Spike addressed the Watcher.

"And I trust you'll take care of things on your end," Giles agreed.

Buffy stared as Spike closed the door behind him, not even glancing in her direction. She couldn't believe the audacity of that girl. Who the Hell did she think she was coming around after seven years and thinking she could take over an apocalyptic battle?

"Buffy," Giles began softly. "I know how difficult this is for you, but it's time for you to relinquish some control."

"You have no idea what this is like for me!!" she screamed. "You bring in some girl who thinks she can just take over after I've spent a large chunk of my life protecting my friends and family from resident evil. And you just let her take over -- her and... and... _him._"

"It's not like that, Buffy, and you know it. I... I thought you'd be relieved. The weight of the world is no longer resting on your shoulders," Giles told her.

"Maybe I like it there," she argued. "Maybe the weight feels good and I'm used to it and... and I just won't feel comfortable without it."

Giles hated doing this to her, but this was no time for diplomacy. She was no longer the one in control.

"Buffy, dear... I'm sorry," he told her. "You have no choice in this matter. Victoria is the one. You're still a Slayer, as is Faith. And we need you both in this battle. We need the Potentials. We need the witches, Xander and Dawn. Every helping hand is being called upon. But we have to work together and Victoria is right... there can only be one general and it is she."


	4. Chapter 4

Tori followed Spike into their two-bedroom apartment and slammed the door behind her. He knew better than to try to talk to her when she was like this. He knew all about adjustment periods. He was still going through one himself. He'd learned that the best thing to do when Tori got all balled up was to give her some time and space whether she liked it or not.

"I could snap her neck," she seethed.

"And what good would that do us, Love?" Spike rationalized, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter.

He rummaged through the refrigerator for a jar of pigs' blood. He busied himself heating up his meal while Tori paced the living room. She paced andraged when she was angry. And right now,she was wound almost as tightly as the first time he'd met her.

"I didn't ask for this," she reminded him. "But I'm not going to turn my back now. It's too late."

He nodded, not wanting to interrupt her tirade. He punched in the numbers on the microwave and watched as his cup of blood turned on the carousel.

"She needs to learn to fall in," she continued ranting. "I expect all hands aboard. And that includes her."

He took his mug from the microwave and sniffed it. It wasn't the same as human, but it would do. He couldn't even think of taking human blood without a hint of nausea washing over him. The soul would never let him forget.

"Barbie's got a bad attitude," she snarked. "And I swear to Christ if she makes this more difficult than need be, I will personally bust her jibs."

Spike set down his mug and slowly approached the now shaking woman who was beginning to wear a hole in the living room carpet. She stopped pacing when she saw him standing in front of her. Her eyes were dark and unfeeling, a look he recognized all too well. He'd seen it in those of his sire's every day of his unlife until she left him. He let his hand brush over her heated cheek in an effort to bring her back from wherever she'd gone.

"Look at me, Kitten," he commanded. She tightened up for the slightest moment before turning her gaze to his face. "You here with me?"

She let out a ragged sigh. She was still new to all of this. She was still learning to deal with the real world after years in volatile situation after volatile situation. Spike watched her cautiously. Sometimes he thought she might break down, and he was sure she needed the release, and then she'd stiffen her spine even more to keep from showing any weakness.

"Yeah," she told him, trying to steady her breath.

"Then look at me," he said slowly.

She raised her eyes to his and he saw them soften a bit. After six months of sharing quarters and training together, he liked to think he knew a little something about her. She amazed him with the way she swallowed down her fear. But he could see something simmering below the surface that he might not have recognized before he got back his soul. He could see the kills etched into her soul. He knew the heaviness from the burden of taking life after life. It was the one thing she refused to talk about with him. He'd tried to get her to talk about her feelings a few times and each time, it had ended badly with her storming off to train alone. He'd find her nearly punching a hole through the heavy bag hours later when he'd gone to offer his apology. She always accepted with a curt nod and a whispered "no bother."

"Come sit with me," he told her, pulling her with him to the sofa.

She sat and clasped her hands tightly in front of her, refusing to relax at all.

"Not gonna bite your head off, Love," he told her, hoping she'd ease up a bit.

He could see her working her jaw, muscles tensing and untensing, waiting for the big lecture. She wished he'd just get on with it; say whatever he wanted to say in the little bitch's defense and get it done.

"I know you already have some preconceived notions about the Slayer," he began.

"She's _not_ the Slayer," Tori retaliated.

"That's true, Kitten. She's not the Slayer. But she _has_ been the Slayer for seven years. And you haven't had to be that girl," he reminded her.

"If I had been that girl, my father would not be dead right now," she said determinedly.

"You don't know that, Baby," Spike tried to soothe.

"I _do_ know that," she said, the distance between them growing even further apart.

He took an unneccessary breath and stood up. He had to get out for awhile. Alone. He tried and tried to get through to her, but she was intent on pushing him away every chance she got.

Tori watched him grab his keys, wishing she knew how to give an inch.

"Wh-where are you going?" she asked, barely recognizing her own voice as it cracked.

He was surprised at the tone in her voice, the tiny bit of panic he'd never heard from her before. He swallowed down the urge to stay and chip at her well-built walls a little more. After Buffy, he promised himself he would never let himself care about another Slayer, yet he found himselffighting against the pull with Tori every day.

"Think you need some time to yourself," he muttered. "Know_ I _do. Driving me crazy with your stiff spine and closed doors, Tori. All I want is a crumb, is that too much to ask?"

She felt the unfamiliar sting of tears at the backs of her eyelids and staved them off by replacing them with her customary silent stubborness. He recognized her resolve and nodded.

"When will you be back?" she rasped, fearful her resolve would completely crack.

"When I decide whether or not I've got something I want to come back to," he said before slamming the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days. Usually it was only a few hours. A day, tops. Three days since he slammed the door. Three days since she'd smelled blood heating in the microwave. Three days since she heard the deep British timbre of his voice. Three days since she felt his cool hand on her cheek.

Tori accented each thought with a hard punch or kick to the heavy bag in front of her. She had his cell phone number. But she hadn't tried to call him. It wasn't in her nature to give. She kicked high and hard. She took. Another quick jab to the center. She took lives and had no regrets. Left, right, roundhouse kick, jab. None at all.

"Spike."

She heard the female voice behind her and stopped her assault on the heavy bag. Buffy walked slowly across the training room, geared up to train herself. She took one look at Victoria's angry posture and well-aimed hits and knew that she could name that tune in one word.

"What?" Tori asked, turning toward Buffy.

"Only Spike could get someone this pissed off," Buffy told her, setting down her ruck sack. "Trust me, you're not the first to nearly tear that bag off its hooks because of something he did."

Tori nodded and walked over to the mats. She sank down into them and grabbed her water bottle.

"I was just finishing up," she told Buffy. "I'll be out of your way in just a moment."

Buffy tried to smile. She watched as the new Slayer chugged down half of the water in her bottle. She replaced the cap and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"No hurry," Buffy told her, trying to sound friendly as she wrapped her wrists.

There was a strained silence between them as Buffy continued prepping for her workout and Tori came down from hers. Buffy stole a few glances of the sweat-sheened girl sitting across from her and realized that one of them would have to give a little. She was sure that it wasn't going to be Tori.

"Listen, Victoria," she began. "About the other day--"

"It's Tori," she told Buffy. "No bother."

"I just wanted to..." She took a deep breath and turned to face the other woman. "I'm really sorry about Merrick. About your dad. I... I didn't know him for very long. But he was really great. And I understand why he did what he did. I wouldn't want my kid to be a Slayer either."

Tori seemed to be taking in what Buffy was telling her and turning it over in her head.

"I didn't know him very long either," she admitted. "I mean, very well. He wasn't around much. We thought it was because he was involved in some top-secret government group. But, you know how that turned out."

She did.

"What's it like?" she asked as Buffy began stretching.

"It?" Buffy asked, not sure what she meant.

"You've been the Slayer for seven years," Tori tried again. "What's it like?"

Buffy thought about the role she'd played for a large part of her young life. Only one word came to mind.

"Lonely."

Tori watched the younger girl warm-up and thought about that word. Lonely. She could relate. In the military there was a certain esprit de corps, but in her little niche as a sniper there was a loneliness that she had never been able to shake.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I get that."

Buffy looked at her and saw a flash of sadness in her dark eyes. Something about her hardness reminded her a little of Faith. Faith's slayer side had always been strong due to the fact that she was pretty much alone in this world. Buffy had been lucky enough to have a mother, a sister, friends. She had Giles. And Angel. She even had Spike.

"Are you close with your mom?" Buffy found herself asking.

"I was," Tori told her. "She died when I was 14. Cancer."

Buffy stared at her trying to read if there was any emotion on her face. Tori's face was cold and hard. It was as if she had trained it into a mask of indifference.

"You close with yours?" Tori asked.

"I was," Buffy sympathized. "She died a few years ago. Aneurism."

The two women looked at each other realizing that they had more in common than either was ready to admit.

"What did he do this time?" Buffy asked.

"Who?"

"The bleached big mouth," Buffy clarified, positive that Tori's beating of the bag had come from something Spike-induced.

"He, uh..." Tori thought about what had gone down between them before he left. "He didn't do anything. It was me. I tend to come off a little, uh... I have a hard time... I..."

She was so bad at this. She looked up at the younger woman and shrugged, wishing to just end the conversation. But she saw something in Buffy's eyes that she needed. Understanding.

"I pushed him away," she finally sighed. "Yeah. I mean... if I can just piss off all the demons as much as I've pissed off Will, this whole apocalypse will be cake."

Buffy gave her a puzzled look. Will? She called Spike by his Christian name? She tried to brush it off so that she could find out just how pissed off... Will... was.

"Um, what... what happened?" she asked cautiously.

Tori thought about how to answer. She figured telling the Slayer that she'd been bitching about her was probably not the best explanation.

"I was running my mouth, venting... and he wanted to help," she told Buffy. "I, uh, I'm not real good at letting people help."

Buffy smiled. She could relate. People. Tori called Spike people.

"You do realize he's a vampire, right?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Hmm? What?" Tori shrugged. "Vampire, yeah. I know that he's a vampire."

"It's just, you... you called him people," Buffy pointed out.

"Right. People. Yeah. I mean, well... you've known him longer than I have. He's not exactly your run of the mill demon, you know? He's... he's people," Tori asserted. "Definitely people."

Buffy thought about her past relationship with Spike. There were times he definitely could have been considered people. And there were times that he made damned sure that she'd never forget just what a monster he was.

"I'm sure he'll come around after awhile. I mean, give him a few hours to himself and he'll remember just how stupid he's acting," Buffy told her.

Tori's face darkened as she pushed herself up off the mats. She grabbed her seabag and rummaged through it for her cell phone. No calls. No messages.

"I'm not so sure he's acting stupid," she told Buffy. "It's been three days."


	6. Chapter 6

"I take it you never told Tori about your cute little crypt with a view," Buffy surmised after kicking in the door to Spike's old home.

"I take it you still haven't learned to knock," he responded without giving her a backward glance. "And she does know about the crypt."

Buffy crossed her arms and watched him. He was kicked back in his comfy chair watching Passions with a bottle of bourbon nestled between his thighs.

"You sure she knows?"

"What is it of your concern, Slayer?" he asked, clearly annoyed by her presence.

"She just seemed... upset. And this is the first place I would have looked for you," she told him.

"Yeah? Well, Tori's nothing like you, Summers," he groused. "Knows when the Hell to give a bloke his space. Maybe all too well."

Buffy closed the heavy door, inviting herself into his old living area. She took a seat on the couch and watched him as he stared blankly at the TV.

"You've been gone three days," she said.

"You got a point, Slayer?"

Spike was more annoyed than she'd ever seen him.

"You know, you and me? Not exactly best friends," he said between gulps of whiskey. "As I recall there was that incident of me trying to rape you, so you might want to back slowly away from me."

Her face reddened at the harshness of his words.

"B-but... you didn't," she pointed out. "And... you're different now."

"Not going to apologize for it," he said, shooting her a dirty look.

"I didn't expect you to," she replied tightly. "I just wanted to... she was just..."

She stood up and shook her head heading back toward the door.

"I don't know why I bothered," she told him. "I just... I saw Tori and we talked. And I could tell something was off. She's not going to call you or come looking for you. I don't think she knows how. And I don't mean that in a she's too stupid to dial a phone kind of way. I don't think she knows how... to ... to give."

Spike thought about what she was saying. He knew that much about Tori. He knew her Slayer side inside and out. Want. Take. Have. She had that down pat. No. The chit was going to have to learn to give sooner or later. Sooner if she wanted him to stick around.

"Well, looks like she'll have to learn because I'm not budging," he said firmly.

"Alright," Buffy agreed. "I'll tell her--"

"You won't tell her a bloody thing," he warned her. "Don't need you sticking in your two cents worth and bollixing things up between me and my Slayer. She'll come 'round when she's ready."

Buffy was surprised by the vindiction in his words. _His_ Slayer. Tori was his Slayer. And she had a feeling Tori felt pretty much the same when it came to Spike being _her_ vampire.

"Fine," she ceded. "Do it your way, you stubborn old coot!"

She let herself out of the crypt and ran half-way across the cemetery before stopping to catch her breath. Stupid vampire. He seemed even more stupid with his high-and-mighty soul.

_Get a grip, Buffy_, she told herself. _You never wanted him. Never intended on being his or on him being yours._

"Did she just call me an old coot?" Spike said aloud, wondering what had gotten into the Slayer.

He continued taking gulps of whiskey and staring at the TV. Passions wasn't even holding his interest. When had evertthing changed? He swore he wouldn't let another Slayer affect him. Swore he'd never let another human get under his skin the way Buffy had. Sworn off love entirely. Love's bitch. Wouldn't be love's bitch for another person, living or undead, ever again.

Three days. Three days since he left her standing startled in their living room. Three days since he heard her confident -- nearly cocky -- rasp of a voice. Three days since he inhaled her intoxicating scent of citrus, rosemary and Slayer's blood. Three days since he felt the warmth of her smooth, golden skin or the silkiness of her hair. Three days since he'd felt the challenge of her will beginning to disintegrate. Three days since--

His phone beeped, startling him back to the crypt. He looked down and saw that he had a text message. He scrolled down to read the message, expecting it to be Giles trying to track him down for the latest research party over hot wings and single-malt.

_I miss you, Will. Please come home. -- T_

He stared at the small screen until the words became a blur. He remembered his words to her... just a crumb. He blinked and re-read her simple statement. She missed him. She wanted him to come home.

Tori sat on the couch, hands shaking as she typed the message intoher phone. _I miss you, Will. Please come home. -- T_ It was a simple statement, but it was one of the most difficult things she had ever done. To admit she missed him implied that she needed him. Needing him implied that she was weak and one thing Victoria Jamison-Smythe had never been is weak.

She waited for a moment, hoping for some sort of indication that he had received her message. Instead, her phone remained silent. The screen remained blank. He didn't want to come home. She'd ruined everything. She scanned the room nervously, eyes resting on her seabag.

_I should just pack everything and disappear,_ she thought.

Then she remembered her duty. She wasn't there to make nice with the most frustrating vampire on earth. She was there to close the Hellmouth. She was there to rid the world of evil. Not fall in love with it.

_Holy... and shit,_ she thought, her eyes wide in realization of what she'd just admitted to herself. Her eyes darted back to her seabag as panic flooded her mind. _Pack your shit and get out,_ her mind screamed. Yes. Get out before you destroy what you've worked so hard to build... those walls of steel that stood ten feet high and five feet thick. Those walls that kept her heart well-guarded from any kind of human emotion.

_You do realize he's a vampire, right? You called him people._

Tori heard Buffy's voice in her head. _He's people. Definitely people._

She looked back down at her phone. No change. She'd done what she had inadvertently set out to do... stave him off with her state-of-the-art walls. She sank back into the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly to her the way she had as a child.

_He doesn't want you. Nobody wants you._ She was transported back to a jungle in South America where she struggled against chains cuffed to her wrists and ankles. She writhed against the tight metal as it cut into her soft skin.

"They don't want you," the floam-covered Fungus Demon told her. "Nobody wants you."

He taunted her as she tried to break free from the strong cuffs. He told her that they'd let her die alone. And then the demons would swarm upon her, fucking and feasting on her still-warm corpse. The chains echoed in her head, a haunting rattle as she realized that if she didn't break free soon, they would take what they wanted whether she was dead or alive. She decided that she'd break free, even if it meant letting the cuffs cut her hands off at the wrists.

She watched as one ofthe minions came into the cell to throw a plate of something vaguely resembling food at her.

"I -- I can't reach it," she lied, acting as though she was straining against the chains.

She saw the keys still hanging from his grubby paw and made the decision to take them or die trying.

"Can you... just push it a bit closer?" she asked. "Sure your master doesn't want to be feasting on an anorexic human. Hardly worth the effort, wouldn't you say?

He looked at her for a moment before deciding to appease her. He bent down and picked up the tray, carrying it closer to her. Tori lunged at him at lightning speed, managing to wrap the chain from her left cuff around his neck. She pulled it tight, reaching down to snatch the keys from his hand. Before he could react, she had snapped his neck and unlocked her shackles, running as fast as she could.

She let out a strangled sob at the memory as the words echoed in her head... _Nobody wants you._ The tears came fast and hot as she realized just how alone she was. Lonely. That was her lot in life. Having Spike around had only made her forget that for a short while.

"I don't want to be alone," she keened, rocking herself as she buried her face in her knees.

Cool hands were suddenly pulling her out of the tight ball she'd pulled herself into. She felt herself falling into his hard chest, grabbing at the soft leather lapels of his duster as she pressed her face into his body.

"Let it out, Baby," he encouraged her. "You need to let it all out."

Once the tears started, she had no idea how to stop them. His arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her in the safety of their cocoon. For the first time since he'd met her, he felt her fear. Brave girl that she was at fighting off demons and human enemies, she had no clue what to do with her own heart.

"I don't want to be alone," she whispered, looking up into his blue eyes.

Her eyes held the innocense of a child, taking him by surprise. He cupped her cheek and held her in his gaze.

"You're not alone, Love," he told her, his voice sweeping over her like a soft caress. "Not going anywhere without you."

He dipped his head down pressing his lips to hers. He waited to guage her reaction, not sure if she would pull away or punch him or both. Instead, she stayed perfectly still, seemingly startled by this act of intimacy from him. After a moment, he felt her hand on the back of his neck as she let out a shaky breath against his cool mouth. He swept his tongue lightly over her bottom lip, feeling her heart speed up at the new sensation. Her lips parted allowing him access to her heated mouth and she welcomed him with her velvety pink tongue. She sucked slowly on his tongue as it swept over the moist recesses of of her needy mouth. She relaxed against him as he deepened his kiss, his hands skimming over her ribs, grazing the sides of her breasts as they travelled up to gently cup her face. She moved into his lap, stradding his legs where he sat on the couch. He tried to will the bulge in his pants to stay down as she writhed against him.

"Promise you'll never leave me," she whispered, breathless from his kisses.

"Never leave you, Kitten," he swore. "Never again."

A fresh flood of tears coarsed down her cheeks at his vow to her. She closed her eyes as he began lapping at her hot skin, taking away her tears with his cooling tongue. She'd never felt anything so divine in her life. He was driven on by the urgent whimpers and mewls coming from her throat. He licked down her neck, stopping to suck at the spot where her blood pulsed. It called to him like a siren as he fought down the demon, determined not to scare her away after he'd made so much progress.

She seemed to sense his struggle and surprised both him and herself when she tipped her head to the side, allowing him full access to her virgin throat.

"I'm not afraid of you, Will," she told him. "I trust you."

His eyes flickered gold as he stared into her flushed face. She had no idea what she was telling the demon it could do. She looked at him, waiting for him to take her offering.

"I can't -- "

"You can," she assured him. "And you will. I need it, Will. We both need it. Please."

She watched in fascination as his fangs descended and his face changed. She could feel him hardening even more beneath her as the demon inhaled her scent.

"Tell me no, Tori," he begged, sure that he would scare her away for good if he did what she wanted. "Tell me, Kitten. Tell me to stop."

She stroked his face lovingly, her fingers tracing the ridges of his forehead before moving to ghost over a sharp incisor. She lightly stroked the point before pushing into it with the pad of her finger, allowing it to puncture the flesh. The smell of her blood caused his nostrils to flare as a low growl rumbled in his chest. She didn't pull away. Instead, she ran the digit over his lips, letting the blood bubble out as she smeared it delicately on his mouth. He licked his lips before sucking her finger greedily into his mouth. Her blood tasted like spiced honey as it dripped over his roughened tongue.

"Take more," she told him, offering her neck to him again. "I trust you, Will. I trust you to stop."

She pulled her finger out of his mouth and pressed her neck to his face. He growled again as the demonfought to come forward and tear mercilessly into her tight skin. She felt the white-hot pain of his fangs as the sliced into her flesh and let out a strangled moan. The pain subsided as he began taking deep pulls of her rich blood and she couldn't help but grind into his hard erection. She moaned as he suckled at her throat, the texture of his jeans rubbing through the thin silk of her pajama pants.

"Mmmm... Will," she moaned as his fangs left her body.

He licked the twin punctures with his coarse tongue before allowing the demon to slip away. He could smell her arousal as she continued to rub herself against him. He sucked at the punctures with his human face as his hand moved to cup her breast.

"Mine," he told her, rubbing his thumb over her sensitive nipple in the same rhythm as his tongue on her neck.

"Yours," she agreed, completing the claim.


	7. Chapter 7

Tori didn't know when she'd drifted off or for how long she'd been curled up in Spike's lap. She smacked her lips togetherand let her eyes roll slowly open. She saw the smoothness of Spike's pale hand splayed across her tan stomach where her top had crept up a bit. She felt the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at being so close to him.

His head was resting on the back of the sofa and his eyes were closed in a peaceful sleep. She tried not to disturb his slumber as she craned her neck to get a better look at him as he slept. His skin had just the slightest hint of color to it. She lifted her hand to her neck and felt the twin punctures that now marked it. Her blood had done that, made him a little less pasty; a little less dead.

_Mine_ he had whispered. _He claimed you_, her Slayer side told her. _Yes, he did_, she thought in response. She was his. And she had no regrets. She knew he would protect her until he was dust. She wondered just how many Slayers had been claimed by vampires. _Buffy_. She remembered Spike telling her about his more than volatile relationship with Buffy. She had been marked by his grandsire, the other vampire with a soul, Angel. But Spike had never marked her. He had never even marked his own sire, Dru. She remembered the hurt in his eyes when he had talked about those two relationships with a mixture of longing and remorse.

"Dru belonged to Angelus," he said. "And nobody, not even me, will ever be able to take the place of her Daddy," he said with acceptance.

"But she claimed you?" Tori had asked.

"She was the one who first drank from me," he clarified. "But she never claimed me. Never turned me. Angelus turned me."

"What about the Slayer?" she continued. "You love her."

"I _loved_ her," he corrected. "The soul has afforded me the luxury of rethinking a lot of my past misgivings. I did love her. Would have done anything for her. But there was nothing there. Not for her."

Tori could tell that the subject was one he didn't really want to expound upon. She was surprised when he did.

"Used me, she did," he said with no regrets. "Not that I minded at the time. She was what I wanted. But she was never what I needed. It took me just one instance to realize that."

Tori had waited for him to continue, but he had been lost in his own thoughts. She had reached for his hand and, for the first time, she wanted to comfort him. Her thumb rubbed absently over the back of his cool hand, tracing circles in hopes of bringing him a moment of peace. He had looked at her, touched by the gesture, and had graced her with a weak, though genuine, smile.

"I,uh..." He sucked in one of those unneeded breaths of which he was so fond. "Tori, Love... chances are you won't be so kind to me once I tell you what happened."

She had seen the fear etched in his eyes. He had been afraid of losing whatever bit of momentum he had gained with her. She made the decision that she wouldn't pull away from him... no matter what it was.

"You can tell me anything," she had promised him. "And I mean anything, Will. I've... I've done things that nobody but you could ever understand. Believe me when I tell you, no matter what it is you've done, I'll understand."

She had watched as he turned her words over in his head. Her hand remained firmly latched onto his.

"I'm not a man with many regrets," he had begun. "Hell, who am I trying to fool? I'm not even a man."

Tori tensed at that remark. It was something she constantly disregarded about him. He was a vampire. Plain and simple. The man had died long ago. She knew that. Yet, something about him made him more of a man than any other she'd ever known.

"Don't say things like that, Will," she quietly admonished. "I know what you are. And I know who you are. You're the best man I've ever known."

He had smiled at that. ducking his head to avoid her gaze. He was far from that, unless she'd only known the shady sort in her whole existence.

"That's kind of you to say, Love," he told her. "But misguided. And entirely untrue. Tried to rape the Slayer. I tried to rape Buffy."

Tori's hand had stilled on his, but she didn't release him from her grip. He'd tried to rape Buffy. Tori thought about her many near-misses on foreign soil from both men and demons who had tried to do the same to her.

"Who tried to rape her?" she had asked, wanting clarification as to which guise he was wearing.

"It was me, Sweetling," he had told her, his eyes meeting hers for the first time.

He had seen the coldness creep back into them before she had even felt it trickle down her spine. Her hand was still holding onto his. He wondered if she was willing herself not to let go. Her eyes had looked haunted as if she was reliving her own scariest moments.

"But you didn't," she whispered, forcing her voice to remain calm.

"No, Love," he had told her. "I didn't."

"You could have," she reminded him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I could have. But I stopped. She reminded me of exactly what I was and I stopped."

Tori had chewed her lip, thinking about what he had almost done. _Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, _she heard cliche-ing in her head. She had remained silently staring at the floor for many minutes. He didnt say anything in his defense. He made no excuses or apologies.

"Your relationship before that... it was... it was good?" she asked, not really sure what kind of relationship he'd had with the Slayer.

"No," he disagreed. "It was never good. It was either... it was... fists or fucking. Never about love or tenderness. It was about need. But never about mine. What she needed. What she wanted."

"And her friends were okay with that? Her Watcher?" Tori had wanted to know, her fingers moving slowly over his cool skin again.

"They didn't know," he said, confirming her suspicions. "She didn't want anyone to know. Told me I was a monster. Never a man. That I was..."

His eyes had dropped to watch her caress his hand. He could feel it happening again. He could feel himself beginning to fall at the tiniest of gesture of her warm skin brushing against his. He closed his eyes tightly and pulled his hand from hers.

"I'm beneath you, Tori," he ground out. "Shouldn't be treating me as a friend, as a man. Not good enough to walk the same ground you tread."

She had only known him a few months, but something new and unfamiliar had taken hold of her heart. She could feel the stab of pain in her chest at the coldness of his voice, at the echo of his words.

"I believe that's for me to decide," she had told him, her voice just as cold as her defense mechanism kicked into overdrive. "I know what you were. More important, I know what you are."

He hadn't said another word after that. He had just let her hold his hand and rest her head on his shoulder. They had fallen asleep on the couch like that for the first time. And they often woke up curled against each other after a long night of research or a marathon of cheesy horror flicks. Tori knew that he didn't need to sleep at night. But he had fallen into the habit since she came into his life. He wanted to be where she was, do what she was doing. He wanted to be lulled by the steadiness of her heartbeat, existed for the chance to touch her.

He had never taken it any further. Not until he'd come home to her after leaving her to stew in her own juices for three days.

She reached up to stroke the sharp angle of his cheek and his eyes fluttered open. It only took a moment for him to focus on her. She was studying him with quiet countenance. Her fingers slid down his cheek to the lush fullness of his bottom lip. She lightly ran the pad of her thumb over the sexy pout of his mouth. Her eyes followed each motion her hand made.

His tongue darted out to rasp across her thumb as it caressed him. She raised her eyes to his, suddenly aware of his lucid presence. She loved the way his eyes would give him away. They were truly the windows to his soul. What she saw in them now was fascination, wonderment... and something she couldn't define, something she'd never seen reflecting back to her before. She wondered if it could be love.

He raised his hand to smooth over the puzzlement of her furrowed brow. What had made her face take on such a mask of confusion?

"Kitten?" he tread delicately. "What is it?"

She wasn't sure how to even broach the subject. She had given him her life's blood. Surely that had meant something to him. Surely he understood that it wasn't something she could just do without some sort of certainty that he'd never leave. Her hand moved back to her neck, the pads of her fingers feeling for the quickly fading scabs from his claim.

"Mine," he whispered into her ear.

His cool breath made the marks on her neck tingle and a fresh pool of moisture form between her thighs.

"Am I?" she wanted to know. "Am I yours?"

He slowly licked a trail up the unmarked side of her throat, purring as he took her earlobe between his blunt teeth. He nibbled around the shell of her ear and her eyes closed shut as she lost herslef in the sensations he was creating in her.

"Always mine," he vowed. "Always yours."

She moaned as his hand moved under the hem of her shirt until it found the bare mound of warm flesh. He let his thumb brush over her nipple until it pebbled from his touch. She let out a gasp that only made him want to please her even more.

"Oh God, Will," she panted. "I need... I need..."

She didn't know how to ask, wasn't entirely sure what it was she needed. But she needed it now.

"What do you need, Baby?" he asked in a sotto voice that made her skin buzz all the way down to her toes.

He lifted her shirt over her head and went back to stroking her hardened nipple while she writhed in his lap. Tori could feel the mark on her neck begin to throb as he continued touching her in the most delicious ways. He dipped his head down to capture a rosy nipple between his teeth and alternately nipped and sucked at the sensitive nub.

"Mmmm.... Will," she mewled, arching her back into his mouth. "So... good... need... oh, God... need you!"

He lifted his head from her breast letting it fall from his talented mouth. He stood, carrying her along with him to his bedroom never looking away from her wondering gaze. He placed her on the cool red satin of his comforter and knelt beside her. He could hear her heart beating in her chest like a jack hammer.

"Never hurt you, Love," he swore, wanting nothing more than to put her at ease.

He let his hand glide down her body until he could hook his fingers into the waistband of her pajama pants. He continued to study her face as she lifted her hips, allowing him to slide the pants down her legs.

"Want you so much Tori," he said reverently. "Need you all around me."

Her eyes were wide and fixated on his every move.

"Need to taste you," he breathed, crawling down her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

She bucked at the first brush of his tongue. He couldn't believe how sensitive she was. Every nerve on her body was on fire.

Her hands found the back of his head and she twined her fingers through the soft platinum strands. Nothing could have ever prepared her for anything this good. She felt her hips rising of their own accord .

"Oh Gaaaah!! Mmmm... Will! Ohhhhh.... OHHHH!"

She came so violently it took her breath away.

She was staring down at him in amazement.

"Wh... what _was _that?" she asked, having no idea what her body had just done.

He looked up at her from where he lay in the cradle of her thighs. The question in her eyes could never have prepared him the one that she had voiced.

"Baby," he said softly. "You just came. Haven't you ever... I mean, you must have..."

She shook her head slowly, never taking her eyes off of his face. When had she had the time to put into any kind of relationship? The Corps had been her entire life. She never made room for this.

"No," she told him. 'You're the only one... my only one."


End file.
